All The Right Words To Say
by Smidgie
Summary: A look into the actions of a certain witch queen. . . who's also completely insane. Snow White. Dark, twisted, strange you guys know the drill. Please read and review


_Disclaimer: In all honesty I don't know who wrote Snow White, or even originally came up with the idea. Hell, I don't know if you even need disclaimers on fairytale fics. But just to be on the safe side… I don't own anything._

_'Ello. This is a ficlet from the POV of the Witch Queen from Snow White, except it's rather weird… and twisted… and probably as majorly OOC as a fairytale character can be, but here goes._

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She isn't quite sure what exactly fizzles through her mind when she first sees that girl, but she knows it's not good. At first she tries to deny it, but when her husband dies, the fizzle turns into a full crackle, _a crackle of power_, and she knows what she wants with the girl.

She wants domination, she wants power. All that talk of beauty, it was just a cover. _Who's the fairest of them all?_ And it's just a thin veneer of humanity over the great jaggedness of her insanity _but of course it's real; what else would it be?_ Not that anyone would ever tell her that. She sits by her Mirror _such a bane of my life_ and runs a brush through her pitch hair, and her soul is as dark, _and tears of salt run trickle, trickle, cackle, whee. . . down my face,_ and she doesn't know anything's wrong with her.

But she wants revenge.

She sets the girl to cleaning. She watches her from around the corner._ This fascination can't be healthy, but I need to see, what did she have I didn't?_ She watches her scrub the floors, polish the furniture, hang out the washing. She doesn't realise she's stopped seeing the girl, and is instead seeing the child's mother. _The woman I never was, the woman he wanted and I couldn't be, is rejection really supposed to hurt this bad?_ Her soul burns with the misery she calls hatred.

The girl has become beautiful; stunning, really and she can still hear those words echoing in her ears. _'Thou wert the fairest, 'tis true, but Snow White is far fairer than you'. _And she knows so, her Mirror said so, and her Mirror can't lie though.

_IT MUST BE LYING!_

So she arranges for the girl's death, with all the coolness of the sociopath no one would dare to name her. The woodsman swears the job is done _and he has the heart, the thrice-cursed heart of that girl that is her mother_ so she believes him and goes to her mirror to gloat and question and feel at peace after so long. 'Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who is the fairest of them all?' 'Thou wert the fairest, 'tis true, but Snow White is far fairer than you.'

_NO!_

The woodsman had lied, and how she rails at the barren stone walls of her chamber._ How dare he defy me_? She kills him herself, and rationality is sickened and shuts down _the blood is everywhere, how pretty it is_ and it spatters her gown and she is Lady Macbeth insane with the bloodstains that won't come out. Her Mirror smiles at eternity as a distinct pride washes over her black desires.

The girl must die. _Her hair of ebony and skin of snow must redden with the blood of her lips, I must have my revenge_. And she calls upon her skill of witchery to accomplish the task. She creates a comb, pearls on silver, that fact is very important to her shattered sanity for beauty's sake, for that is the reason, the silver plated reason that even then is rusting to show the cheap metal beneath, for all this to be. And she hides the poison inside like a Trojan horse.

She throws on a disguise as one might a cloak, an unwilling thought swimming to the surface of her subconscious, _as hideous as I am inside._ But she flattens it and makes haste to the cottage where the dwarven men live, where her Mirror told her the girl dared to hide. _It is so easy, so easy, to entrance the fool to try the comb in her ebony hair where it sits so pretty and only furthers my hate. _And she leaves the girl dead on the floor, with a thought of triumph, _be with your husband, shadow spectre of the past_. For she has long thought of the girl to be the woman her husband cried out for in the sweet sharp agony of his nightmares. The sun is scorching the midday when she tears her eyes away from the corpse and leaves.

She dances home, light-hearted for once, and goes to her Mirror she loves and hates. And that reply, that reply, which she hates, _flee from my ears, cursed rhyme, cursed mirror, cursed __girl_It haunts her, embitters her heart further and further as she constructs another plan.

It was not as easy as before _but still easy enough_ to make her way inside that cottage. _And to lace the life out of the silly girl_, she thinks gleefully But somehow she didn't get the satisfaction she got from last time, and she stays longer. The sun is dancing on the horizon when she flees the cottage and returns to the castle. And again, she rips her clothes and tears her hair when her Mirror, almost emotionless, tells her again that the girl had lived. She begins again.

She rips through the book,_ this spell book that was my mother's, and all she ever gave me save my looks and my hands and my black heart_. And she finds an apple, an apple as like her and the girl as could be asked for _with a curtsy and a smile_ _thank you Lady Death for the kindness of your custom_. One side red, one side white _and the red is the poison, poison, poison to succeed where I could not_ and if this cannot kill the girl, she feels sure she will die herself.

But it kills her.

She wends her way home when the stars are conversing with the moon and she can hear the tramp of fourteen boots along an elven path _and I am close enough to hear their shouts of horror and I tip back my head and screeeeeeam victory to the night. _And when she arrives home her Mirror is waiting with all the right words to say.

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_**15-6-7 – did a little editing. Thanks to everyone – OK, the only person – who reviewed. Ladies and gents, give it up for **__**faomyfan! Special thanks to A.D. - couldn't have done it without you! For an explanation of this fic, please send me an email - it was an assignment, and I had to do heaps of analysis on it. . .**_

_This was inspired by __Kitt__Yuehana__'s Witch Queen', which I personally think is way better than my portrayal of her… but I had a crack at it anyway._

_Anyway, please review and thanks for reading._

_Ta,_

_Smidgie_


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